


The Wolf of National City

by alephthirteen



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Celtic Mythology, DCU (Comics), Supergirl (TV 2015), Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Alex Danvers, Alpha Diana (Wonder Woman), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Amazons have been rocking this ABO thing for a while now, And SOMEONE needs to be giving her some half-Kryptonian grandbabies, And a Ripped Werewolf, BAMF Alex Danvers, BAMF Kara Danvers, Cat Grant is the crooked doc who treats supernaturals who don't want to be found, Circe promised Hippolyta that these strap-ons were fully functional, Earth-13 - Freeform, Evil DEO, F/F, F/M, Kara and Alex work for the resistance, Kara is a literal ray of sunshine, Kara would like to scritch her tummy, Lena as a giant wolf, Lena is the Morrigan, Magic AU, Magic Cock, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Cassie Sandsmark, Omega Kara Danvers, Polyamory, Ruby doesn't like it when her mommy murders people, Sam is trying to cut back and just kill evil people, She's an space angel that escaped Rao's supernova, The Morrgian turns into a wolf, Winn is a resistance spy, Worldkiller cult summoned some real nasty critters but couldn't control them, but a good wolf because she protects injured travelers, no really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:48:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29094513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alephthirteen/pseuds/alephthirteen
Summary: The wolf lunges, thick gray hackles standing tall and stiff on her back—Kara can somehow smell that it's a female—and blood-red streaks of glowing fur spreading from the undercoat. Just in case the fact that she can take a full Supergirl punch and grunt through the pain and the fact that her hot claws can powder concrete as she charges weren't clues enough, this puppy has glowing, stabby fur that turns razor sharp when it's stiff and sizzles with enough unformed arcana to fatally overdose the average human caster just by laying eyes on her.She's never heard of a shifter or cursed beast that can go toe-to-toe with a New Goddess like herself, but like Alex always says, it doesn't have to be in a grimoire to put you in the meat grinder.Kara cannot right now. Her shoulder is bleeding, her ears are ringing, she feels like a used-up sponge, shredded and leaking despite there not being so much as a grain of kandoorian steel left on the material plane.Kryptonians only can be hurt by blades forged the guts of blue stars using ore from long-destroyed mines outside the lost city of Kandor. Everyone knows that.
Relationships: Cassie Sandmark/Alex Danvers, Kara Danvers/Diana (Wonder Woman)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	1. Wolves and Amazons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this world, Alpha/Beta/Omega is fairly recent, the product of an Axis curse in the 1940s during the war. Striking worldwide as a plague meant to make the Allied nations tear themselves apart, it dredged up long-since-shed behaviors of cavemen from a time before humans invented things like speech or consent.
> 
> The only place Alpha/Beta/Omega occurs throughout recorded history is Themyscira, but as the Amazons are all omegas or omega-to-midspectrum betas, it plays no role in their orgies and only has minor importance in committed relationships.
> 
> Diana named it at a post-war conference when a reporter asked.
> 
> Female alphas do not have male genitals and initially heterosexual men exploited this fact and fatal effect of heat if left unchecked to discriminate against queer women. Modern medicine has proven it is the closeness and skin-on-skin that breaks a heat, not semen or penises per se. An omega will enjoy fingers and/or a strap-on just as thoroughly.

The wolf lunges, thick gray hackles standing tall and stiff on her back—Kara can somehow _smell_ that it's a female—and blood-red streaks of _glowing fur_ spreading from the undercoat. Just in case the fact that she can take a full Supergirl 1-2-3 punch and grunt through the pain and the fact that her hot claws can powder concrete as she charges weren't clues enough, this puppy has glowing, magical fur that turns razor sharp when it's stiff and sizzles with enough unformed arcana to fatally overdose the average human caster just by laying eyes on her.

She's never heard of a shifter or cursed beast that can go toe-to-toe with a New Goddess like herself, but like Alex always says, it doesn't have to be in a grimoire to put you in the meat grinder.

Kara cannot right now. Her shoulder is bleeding, her ears are ringing, she feels like a used-up sponge, shredded and leaking despite there not being so much as a grain of kandoorian steel left on the material plane, much less enough for a a blade of a cudgel. When she couldn't _annihilate_ the Daxamite army to avenge her home, she _castrated_ it. Make it a toothless thing that can't so much as draw her or Kal's blood.

Kryptonians only can be hurt by blades forged in dying stars using ore from long-destroyed mines outside the lost city of Kandor. Everyone knows that. Muggers. Sexual harassers. Terrorists. She thinks that's why sometimes they _throw the guns_ , in case that's somehow a loophole.

After her home exploded, it became easy to chase the ore down. Harder to destroy it or find who has it. But sometimes Kara knows when to close the door and wait for Alex to come out, looking tired as she wipes blood off the barrel of that giant, enchanted revolver she likes.

So how can this large, growly, mean _wolf_ tear her up?

Shit situation, agonizing injuries, rules of the game changing. Easy peasy, Supergirl 101. Except for the part that Alex's sad face stitching her up will hurt worse than her definitely dislocated, hopefully not bitten in half right shoulder. Diana's off doing whatever hot-as-fuck Amazonian alphas do on the ''third moon" and _Kara would very much like to know_ and it is one hundred percent _not okay that only an Amazon's wife_ can be told certain secrets because _that's basically kidnapping_ , seeing as how they're so hot.

Alex is probably on the Island this very minute e wrist deep in Cassie, making the youngest bastard of Zeus scream. The original absentee father won't be making any more after Alex, Kara, Diana and Cassie dealt with him. His dick was _really_ causing trouble. Couldn't be trusted to keep it.

Kara and Alex really lucked out, snagging the last of the limited editions. The Danvers Sisters. Orphans. Badasses. Gay messes. Unlucky in life, lucky in love. Trademark pending.

Shit. If Alex _is_ getting off on Themiscryia—and she is, Kara _definitely_ agrees about Cassie having a jaw droppingly cute little ass—she can't exactly be reached by phone when Kara needs pick up before the DEO decide to take their long-sought guinea pig by peeling her off the concrete with a spatula.

She has to finish this and _get away_ and even though this creature has thoroughly stomped her, she doesn't want to leave it to the wolves. Well, the other wolves. The ones with knives and bonesaws and tape recorders.

Plan A was not having the fight.

Plan B was winning it.

She's not sure which plan _begging for her life_ was but it was probably whatever comes a few letters after Z.

"I'd like to leave," Kara pleads, taking two steps back and holding her hands up. "I never wanted to fight you."

The wolf's lips peel back as her growl grows, shaking the dust and making the crumbled concrete dance up into the air on a rising gust of magic.

Kara is definitely dead. She had a good run.

"BAD DOGGY!"

A small girl has snuck out from behind one of the overpasses pillars, clutching her bleeding abdomen with one hand and waving a finger at the beast with the other.

Maybe it's the whole not-dying thing, but watching a wolf the size of a Range Rover with streaks of red-hot steel striping its fur and enough magic to put a hole in the universe submit to an eleven or maybe twelve-year old girl with a whine and a sad look in her gleaming green eyes is enough to make Kara giggle.

"Kid," Kara huffs. "I have lost a _lot_ of blood here. We both need a hospita-"

A fresh snarl from the wolf.

"A place where people can _help us_ but not one with doctors and phones they can call the DEO with, right?"

The girl nods, tears forming in her eyes as her tiny hand disappears into the wolf's coat. She raps the wolf sharply on the nose.

"Behave. _Help._ Help..."

"Kara."

"...help _Kara_ and me get somewhere safe. Like mom said. Understand?"

The wolf huffs unhappily but lets the girl loop a silver chain with three charms on it around it's jaw like a muzzle.

"Good wolfie."

There's a scratch on the ears and a thump of a back leg that collapses part of the ruined overpass.

* * *

Diana expected many things upon setting foot on her native soil for the first visit in a hundred years. This was not among them. Her sisters _shy away from her_ , or take their playmate for the festival into their arms and put their back to her, hands curling around hipbones or protectively covering throats.

One of their own being an alpha, they treat like betrayal.

Her aunt's voice echoes in her mind, sharp as her blade, even in memory.

> _We must be careful, Hippolyta. Diana is unique here. Not just in being a child._

Her mother's answer, as it so often was, was queenly silence and forbidding anyone to speak of it. Fates alone know how the Senate resisted censuring her for her petulance, eternal and goddess-crowned Queen that she is. Perhaps they challenge her proposals for it even when they agree or Nubia and Phillipa punish their bratty royal for it in their bedchambers.

Alex, a human alpha, was met with curiosity. Interest. The younger Amazons, and some of the older one too, shuffled close as she laid Cassie on the stones, one hand cupping the back of her head. She let Cassie slide the wooden instrument into her clenching core and wake it with her mouth, letting witchery and the touch of both lovers transform it into a throbbing, dripping thing with a girth and a weight that could shame any man born with one attached. Alex flew into a snarling haze to equal any berserker. Her sister wriggled and giggled and curled up into it, relishing treatment that few of Diana's old lovers would have visited on her with a slap of their lasso or whipping-bundle of grass, let alone just their hips.

Wine goblet morosely pressed to her lips, Diana moved closer. Not fully trusting a pack of drunk and lust addled Amazons who'd never laid eyes on an alpha, let alone a _female_ with a huntress' sharp eyes and lean limbs with corded muscles as proudly hewn and furrowed as one of their archers. After all, this is an island without so much as a male _mouse_ and between Alex's legs was the first _living_ cock any had ever seen even if it was clever witchery and an unearthly wood cut, whittled and sanded smooth from a tree Circe showed her. Amazon marbleworkers and blacksmiths make lovers' blades in a shape that's completely different.

Alex let them get close, probably out of some bone-deep desire to prove herself to possible mates. What crackles in Alex's heart is not nearly so crass and as a male alpha in Man's World. Pride, yes. Ego, too. But an ego earned by deeds and a pride that's happily abandoned, sacrificed on an mewling, thirsty altar carved of golden skin and dark hair. Not so much 'this one belongs to me' as the idea that this one makes her whole and through Cassie's touch and scent lies a clarity most alphas never enjoy, not even happy and mated ones like Alex's mother was when she lived.

Diana learned how to become the alpha Kara needed from watching Alex become the one Cassie needed.

She takes Cassie like Aphrodite took to her nymphs in the old stories. The Titaness of Stars and Seas is an alpha, as are all her cosmic sisters but Demeter and Hera. Only herself, Athena and Artemis are clever enough to pour their divine and infinite lust into female bodies whether they be mortals or minor deities.

Too often men belittle their omegas, claiming that their heats make it 'hard to control themselves' and that a domineering hand is what the women need to return to being a rational creature, if not one they treat as equal.

Alex knows that she is the animal, the would-be monster whose libido saws ceaselessly at the bonds of her kindness and common sense. Like clever Kriasa did for raving Aphrodite in that blessed glen, Cassie shushes and nuzzles and makes her allure and her need during her heats Alex's lighthouse. Rather than snarl at another soldier in the resistance, she should feel Cassie's pulse racing through the veins on her breast. Rather than whine and grumble orders and pressure her beloved, she should _kneel and drink_. Let Cassie's leg over her shoulder shield her from the world and Alex can drown herself in scent and taste and know that Cassie will be slick and ready Alex can slake her rut.

Perhaps other alphas who call themselves 'Lesbians' are wise and kind like this. Diana doesn't know. She's only observed Alex and Cassie. Sisters see things others don't, particularly on the Island. Their skittish, perfect Danverses were both shamed about it until they saw how much their Amazons relished it. Competing to make the other blush at breakfast with the sounds _their mate_ made in the night. A few shabby safe-houses later, it was completely normal for Kara to be taking Diana on the couch, or Alex taking Cassie. No more noteworthy a reason to leave the room than that it had become a bit chilly.

The term Lesbian never sat right with her, no matter how many women of Man's World that Diana took into her bed who considered themselves one with a Spartan's fierce and suffering-hardened pride. Rattled in her ears like sharp gravel and thinking of herself that way made her mind skip erratically like a gear missing a tooth. Hardest were the omegas. No matter how she panted and strained and how her clit _throbbed_ for the slightest smile or a whiff of scent. Sometimes their need for her to 'alpha them' at night left her clutching her knees and blinking back images of finger-shaped bruises in the judgmental dawn.

Lesbian.

Ha!

Why give a certain name to a thing, if it is normal as a woman having breath in the lungs? Why designate it and give it a unique little noun to say it is distinct? Distinct can become difference, and difference can be twisted by dishonest parties and called deviance. Nothing about Man's World makes her hand itch to grasp the hilt of her blade and spill blood like the way that slurs and disapproval are used like a torturer's lash. Not just on grown women secure in their minds and each other's arms who can laugh at the foolish ones who don't enjoy what they do but on un-bloomed girls who only _wonder_ about themselves.

Her sisters on the island aren't Lesbians, they are _merciful and honorable, mighty and passionate_ as their Patrons made them so long ago. It's not for _lack_ of men they delight in the taste of each other's breasts and the scrape of teeth and tongue across shaking thighs. It's for _abundance_ of women. Themiscira's cup runneth over, as the judgmental and cruel worshippers of the shepherd god might say. That worship was different once, her mother claims. Better and safer when Yahweh's idols sat next to Asherah's as husband and wife. Better when the Israelites were one tribe among many and the descendant religion had not shadowed the world with its ideas of shame and sin. She wonders if Christians are even literate or thinking beings with how they lose the advice of the prophet in their sacred writings in the froth and bile of their words and actions.

Last night a thousand eyes fell on Alex and Cassie, curious and jealous of Cassie or of Alex. Diana was Amazon and being an alpha made her _wrong_ but Alex is human and being alpha made her _new and interesting_ , as if an undiscovered species had been found on the island.

She could forgive the little ones, who've only known a woman for a century, or two, or three. All women are wondrous to them, all women have bodies that make them slick and half-mad with want.

Far harder was watching Hessia and Io. The first lovers Diana took when she bloomed into womanhood were hulking, stallion-like Io and dark, sinuous Hessia. They had snuck close and moved their hands lazily between each other's legs as they studied the scene Alex painted.

> _Feel this, Io. Feel how her back moves. Like a stallion's flank at a gallop._
> 
> _It looks so real._
> 
> _The healers said it was. Circe's work, of course, ever the tease. It becomes flesh when Cassie kisses it._
> 
> _Artemis be kind, how is Cassie taking that?_ _Would you let me do this to you?_
> 
> _Of course. I forged a new one, beloved. Diana gave me a jewel for the hilt. She commissioned a few as the price of the favor Circe owed her._
> 
> _Let me wear it, my fire and steel. Tonight._

Tears hammered at the edges of Diana's eyes watching the two, remembering being a shivering, dripping mess who placed herself in the bed of a blacksmith and a general because _they were strong,_ stronger than any but her mother and her equally ancient, legendary wives. Diana somehow knew, even back then, that no ordinary Amazon could take her how she needed to be taken. Io had the raw muscle, packed thickly and made hard as rock by unending centuries at the forge, and Hessia had a general's will.

That shameful jealousy was last night.

This morning, dawn finds Diana lonely and aching for the feel of golden hair whispering across her legs and a questing tongue and eyes blue and intense as summer lightning. Her lost star is far away, held back by Diana's hesitance in offering a wife's collar and the fact that the next marrying moon is nearly a year off. Her scar is like two crescent moons on her collarbone and every moment, her blood flowing under the mark sings with the power of the only being on the planet who could break her skin with teeth.

The festival has nine days left. She is the princess. When the seas dry and the skies crack, Hippolyta will abdicate and she will be queen.

There are appearances to be kept.

So she draws Kara's favorite sleeping shirt to her nose and she weeps.

* * *

There's bright and warm and everything's wavy. It makes Kara want to curl into a ball and cry. It's not dying—she's accepted that—it's that the fucking bright light isn't a feature of the afterlife she's hoping for. Heaven is bright and warm, they say. The cavern at the gates to Hades is dark and cold and she belongs there, wants to go there, where she can wait in the waving grass of Elysium. Diana gets along with Persephone like a house on fire.

She could walk Cerberus, maybe. And Diana could visit...

"Jesus! What happened?"

"Broken rib, dislocated shoulder, I think that arms broken in four places. I...I thought she was after Ruby. I _have to_ protect the wounded, especially little ones. It's how the curse works. FUCK! I am so sorry."

"S'fine," Kara mumbles. "S'fine, pretty girl..."

She takes her working hand and lifts a silvery-pale wrist. She breathes in the smell, at the pulsing veins where it's richest. Smells like an alpha with _so much power_ to protect Kara's pups and _so many pups_ for her. She smells like all the good things ever and there's silky black hair tickling Kara and can barely see a blur but it's a _yummy looking blur_ and she's clearly _naked_ and that's something to bleed out to, no question.

It would smell _really fucking good_ if Kara could mix that smell with Diana.

"Lena!" a woman's voice snaps. A voice so strong and proud that Kara really wishes she could get up to salute her. That sounds like Hippolyta chewing Diana out on that magic mirror thingy.

"Back up. You're triggering her. I don't know _how,_ given that she's marked and bitten, but you are triggering her. I promise you, I can save her life... Or she can go through a sudden-onset heat and cook her uninjured organs. But _pick one_. Because you getting both is not happening."

The alpha rumbles and it's _so hot_ but then the smell and the blur gets farther away and Kara sobs.

"Find all the blood we have, and don't hang it, nurse. _Push it_. Someone find me an artery on the good side."

"Dr. Grant, those injuries are _not_ accidental. We need the DEO. We have to repo-AAAAAGH!"

Something heavy and stinky falls across Kara and she whines, needing the alpha to make it go away and she does, shoving it off.

"Did you just..."

"He'll live. Now... This woman bleeding to death while you stand there like idiots is a _goddamned hero_ and her life is worth _ten of you people put together_ so if I see one of you so much look at that phone, I will forget about my Hippocratic oath long enough to go to my purse and I will do far worse than taze you. Clear?"

She doesn't want to fuck that alpha but that voice gives her tingly feels and Kara feels much safer now because that alpha is protecting her. Like she's pack.

_Ooh, that is definitely a queen of the Amazons type voice._

"Now..."

"Find me a vascular surgeon I can fucking trust. Donovan? Vasquez! She's on call, right?"

"On it!"

"For _fuck's sake,_ why don't I have the entire Pedes ICU unit down here? Look at that kid!"

"Her suit's not cutting, doc."

"Alpha, _please_ ," Kara begs. "Clasp. I need to touch it and I can't make my...thingy...work."

"She's lost so much blood she doesn't know she has arms, we've got to get her onto the table, doc."

Long fingers that would _feel so good_ in the achy wet place between her legs lift Kara's palm to the suit's controls.

"Whoa. Wish more of our ER patients came in with magical dissolving clothes."

"Especially if they have _those abs!_ Jesus!"

"Remember the part where I threatened to shoot you?" Dr. Grant grumbles.

* * *

It's bright, but it isn't wavy anymore and it hurts so bad that Kara is pretty sure she's not dead. No one would bother with afterlife—afterlives? whatever!—if you could hurt this bad after dying.

There's a tall, broad-shouldered and broad-hipped alpha sitting in a chair next to her. It's not a hospital room, even though it's full of beeping machines. Hotel, it looks like.

"Hey," she croaks.

The alpha's head snaps up, and she smiles. Her lips are messy, smeared with red lipstick and red...Kara juice. Her hair is wild, like she hasn't touched it, and her face is dirty. Around her neck is a silver chain and Kara really wants that bathrobe open _yesterday_ and not just to see the three little charms she knows are there.

_Those green eyes. Fuck. Murder me again, long as you knot me first._

It's the wolf.

It's the wolf and she can't be mad because it was protecting a kid and there was a misunderstanding an all little girls need a giant wolfie to keep them safe. Common sense.

"You were out a while."

"How long?"

"Three days. How are you feeling?"

"Hurts," Kara groans.

"Hey, shh, easy..." the alpha tells her. "Lie back."

Kara does because the alpha told her to.

"M'Kara."

"Lena."

"What's with the bathrobe?"

Lena's creamy cheeks go strawberry and she looks away.

"I...you smell _so good_ that I couldn't leave your side. And...uh...look, so you smell _amazing_ , you realize? I...uh...think I'm in rut? So...uh...I...might've shifted so I had a cock and uh...wanked. In the corner! But I didn't come _on you_ or take the sheet off or anything. I just wanked a lot."

_She's really cute when she's embarrassed._

"Thas'nice..." Kara hums.

"Hey, stay with me. You can sleep in a minute, all right? Is there someone I can call for you?"

"No," Kara sniffs.

"I'm _pretty sure_ that an omega like you with a mate-bite that clear has a mate. No one's _that stupid_ as to leave you."

"She's on...Thema..Thormis.. _fuck_! That place is hard to pronounce."

"Themyscira?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"There were Amazons, in Ireland, long ago. You smell like Amazon," the Alpha breathes. "And lightning, and sunshine and strawberries."

"S'nice to hear," Kara sighs. "Her name's Diana. She's like, a princess there. And she smells like lightning because...sky guy...sky guy who puts his dick in places was her dad."

"Zeus," the alpha chortles. "Gods and Fair Folk! You're cute when you're confused. Diana like... _Wonder Woman_ Diana?"

Kara nods. Her neck feels _really noodly_ right now.

"There's a bracelet, on my...thingy."

"See, now you're doing it on purpose."

"S'it working?"

"Really kind of is, yeah."

Warm hands with _really long fingers_ pat Kara's arm.

"Got it."

"So, someone needs to take that to Sparta. There's a temple. A temple to Aphrodite Areia. Goddess of Love and War. Only a warrior woman can see the temple. And only at sunset. There's a golden bow inside. She needs to tie that to a flaming arrow and aim into the wind. The magic'll take it to the island. Diana will find it."

"Thank you, pretty girl. _Good girl_ ," Lena rumbles. "Go back to sleep for me, please. I'll get you out into the starlight when you're strong enough, I promise. Get your strength back."

"Can y'put a note on that?" Kara yawns.

"What's it need to say?"

"Are we exclusive? Love, Kara."

The alpha chuckles and pats Kara's sweaty head.

The last thing Kara hears is something about a Jess—she's too tired to remember what a Jess is—and a jet, and getting it off the ground right away and that Lena will tear the pilot's throat if it doesn't make it to Athens by tomorrow before sunset.


	2. Rising Sky, Falling Steel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where trying to capture Wonder Woman's girlfriend is fantastically stupid and the repair bill gets pretty high.

**Resistance Listening Post Foxtrot-3**

Rural Oregon | April 3rd | 0513 hours

"Winn?"

"Yo!"

He spins in his chair.

"I am tracking some _crazy_ shit out of the Navy."

"So? Regular military keep their noses clean."

"Uh-uh. This is _not_ what they usually sound like."

"Gimme."

His girlfriend hands over her headphones.

> _This is your op but these are my sailors and this is my boat. I hope you understand, Director Henshaw._
> 
> _Of course, Captain Haley._
> 
> _Swordfish Squadron is off the deck. They'll RV with your birds outside of Fresno._

"What the _fuck_ is the commander of an aircraft carrier doing listening to that lunatic?"

* * *

** USS _Gerald Ford_ **

Nuclear-powered aircraft carrier | Cost: $12.8 billion

Pacific Ocean | 0518 hours

"Permission to speak freely, captain?"

"Granted."

"You trust this Henshaw guy?"

"I don't trust anyone who doesn't have a CO who can kick their ass as needed. Make sure we keep an eye on our planes. It gets hairy, you pull them out and I'll take the heat with the admirals. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

**Themyscira**

"Mmm," Cassie hums. She reaches back and cups Alex's ass, pulling her closer.

"You're wearing that thing more often, babe."

She slips back under.

* * *

"Princess!"

"Wha?"

"The queen needs to see you."

Cassie groans. Alex's cock seems to have all the usual functions, including _morning wood_ so she's knotted even as her mate sleeps.

"Can she come to me?"

* * *

"You're certain she's going after Kara?"

"Alex," Hippolyta sighs, putting her hand on the mortal's shoulder. "Diana can feel she's wounded, in the mark. The sailors are calling it Operation Argo's Fall."

_Argo. Kara's old hometown. The Queen of the Amazons is telling me the US military is throwing everything it has into catching Kara and my useless ass is across the Atlantic ocean._

"Cassie will go with you. I will release Diana from her duties at the end of prayers. I do not envy the one who gave the order."

* * *

"Cassandra Sandmark, do you swear to spill no unnecessary blood?"

"I do, my queen."

"And do you swear that when you take a life, there shall be no unnecessary suffering?"

"I do, my queen."

"And do you swear that in battle, you shall bare your blade _only_ to those who threaten our home?"

"I do, my queen."

She slips the lasso from Cassie's bound wrists.

"Go. May Aphrodite put fire in your blood, may Athena guide your blade, and may Artemis keep your aim true. In accordance with the sacred mission of the Amazons, in the power entrusted to me by the Patrons, I hereby give you and your beloved orders to strike fear into the hearts of men who would harm those beloved to us."

* * *

"What...is...this?" Alex whispers.

Cassie runs her blade across her bracer, relishing the singing of steel on steel. Falcon's Feather may not be Diana's fabled Godkiller but it was good enough to chop Zeus' balls off, so it will do.

"Mother said it was full of captured weapons from our expeditions when we went to the aid of our sisters."

"Babe, this is a lot more than some borrowed crates of AK-47s. _That_ is a pair of late-model Soviet tanks. _That_ is an air-to-air missile truck. _Those_ are cruise missiles. If I could get this stuff to that Priest of Thor out in Wyoming for some enhancements? Fuck. The Resistance is an actual _army_."

Cassie shakes her head and goes to her slack jawed alpha, kissing her on the edge of her stunned mouth.

"So I'll have them sent out on a barge as a wedding present, all right, darling?"

Alex throws the tarp off.

"Stinger air-to-air missiles. Babe. Hand me that Frenzy rune stamp, yeah?"

* * *

** Cmdr. Josephine "Yoga" Dupre **

F-35C "Lightning II "fighter jet | Cost $82 million (per aircraft)

She swings her bird's nose around. Her wing woman slides onto her four o'clock and brakes, switching her engines into hovering mode.

"DEO Bloodhound 1, Swordfish Squad is on station."

"Copy that."

She does _not_ like this. Why the hell is he pointing her bird's weapons at _California_? And _why the fluffy fuck_ was the rest of her squadron kept back for re-arming with air-to-ground? And why the hell hasn't she heard of this DEO if they've got stealth helicopter gunships?

* * *

**National City, California**

April 3rd | 0513 hours

The techs spin up the new toy Boeing made them, gradually ramping up the fusion reaction inside.

Sure enough, the bitches' blood reacts to it, going bright and hot in his infrared goggles. A little spatter trail going northeast.

"Agent Lockwood, do you have a trail?"

"Yes, sir."

"I want her in the lab by 1300. Alive. Bloodhound 1 and 2, go high and turn on the dampeners. Nice and quiet when you're over urban areas."

* * *

**Resistance Listening Post Foxtrot-3**

Rural Oregon | April 3rd | 0513 hours

Lyra has rigged up her radios so that they can flick between the ship, the DEO's strike team, and the aircraft.

> _"Talk to me, Yoga."_
> 
> _"Got a real spooky thunderstorm gathering."_
> 
> _"You afraid of a little lightning, flygirl?"_
> 
> _"No, sir. But I'm puckering factor 8.5 because the lightning bolt is just sitting there on my twelve like it's waiting for the go ahead to bake my avionics."_

Lyra switches it.

> _"Clerk is down. Proceeding to second floor."_
> 
> _"WHAT THE FUCK!"_
> 
> _"Sound off, agent!"_
> 
> _The only reply is a crow's shriek._

"Get me the ship, babe."

> _"DONKEY IS TOAST!"_
> 
> _"BREAK BREAK BREAK!"_
> 
> _"FUCK! My bird's cooked. Flying dead stick. Punching out!"_
> 
> _"Got something in my kill slot. Can't shak-."_
> 
> _"MUSTANG!"_
> 
> _"What the fuck is...oh, no."_
> 
> _"Talk to me, pilot."_
> 
> _"It's...a woman, skipper. With a fucking sword. And she's fucking coated in lightning. She is matching speed with me and I'm doing Mach 2."_
> 
> _"This is Captain Haley. Break off. That is an order. Break off, dump your drop tanks and burn like hell back to the deck."_
> 
> _"Copy that. Fangs in, ladies. Let's go home."_

* * *

**National City, California**

The DEO left two soldiers to watch eight technicians and some truck-mounted, barbell shaped piece of machinery that looks really expensive. Worst thing she can do to the DEO is wreck their toys, sending them back to the CIA and whatnot asking for a handout of another hundred billion. Sooner or later, someone's going to court-martial Henshaw, and that means moving that metal-dicked fanatic to a particular holding cell in Quantico. One which has a very tiny window but a window with a clear line of sight to a shady, oak-lined park about three quarters of a mile away. Alex weeds her sniper's nest there monthly.

She moves to the nearer guy, keeping to the shadows. She loves how the hydra leather in the boots silences her footsteps. She is _so keeping_ this armor.

"Hey," she whispers, putting her dagger's tip to his neck from behind and reaching around to nestle Dragon's muzzle against his crotch.

"Ah-ah! This is a long-neck Colt .45 with a runed barrel and these cartridges have dwarven powder in them. That jockstrap of yours could be ceramic tank armor and I'd still be able to vent your balls."

"You got a girl?"

He shakes his head.

"Boy?"

A nod.

"He cute?"

Eager nod.

"Here's the deal. I've got six flavors of cursed bullets that I've never tried out. I could test them on you, but I don't want to. I'd like to send you back to your boyfriend _with_ your knot but I'm gonna need some help, m'kay?"

He whines, pushing his pheromones against hers, but she's the older, stronger alpha and he's only doing this for a paycheck. She's got family on the line.

"So before I see what a gorgon-tooth bullet does to your dick, why don't you hand me that fancy radio and put down _all your gear_ , like a _good boy_?"

He does.

"Go. And get a better fucking job."

The other soldier hears the clink when the panicky little shit's boots hit a piece of rebar. Alex swings Dragon up and fires twice.

Turns out it turns the skull to solid rock and the glass bullet filled with chimera venom is so caustic it can melt rock.

Rounding up the unarmed techs—a beta and the rest omegas—requires nothing but a mean look and a growl.

"Tell me what this does."

"Fusion torch."

"Fusion, like in a star?"

"Yes."

"That the nozzle?"

"Yes."

"What's the equivalent star to the hottest this can burn for an extended period?"

"F-Type, white dwarf."

" _Perfect_. You're going to give me the keys to this truck and get the fuck out of my sight."

She nudges their DEO patches with the dagger's tip.

"If me or any of my people see you wearing this again, I will kill you on general principle. It will take long enough that I can re-watch every episode of _Days of Our Lives_ and when I'm done, your remains will qualify as abstract art. Got it?"

* * *

** USS _Gerald Ford_ **

Nuclear-powered aircraft carrier | Cost: $12.8 billion

Pacific Ocean | 0721 hours

"Ma'am, you need to see this."

Her deck officer is a capable, tough-as-nails omega. The sort of guy who's been shrugging off scent-happy superior officers since the late 1980s. He looks ready to shit himself.

She scans the clipboard.

"What am I looking at?"

He taps his marker.

"These are missing."

"What is on pallet Hotel Three?"

"Four air-dropped cruise missiles. Nukes, ma'am. One point two megaton hydrogen bomb tipped city busters. I found the guards knocked out cold. We're also missing a fuckton of wires and scrap from the machine shop."

"Enough to say, wire them up to a fast-mover?"

"Long as you didn't care if the airframe survived firing, yeah."

She pounds her fist on the map table, cracking the glass.

"That's why he asked half of Swordfish to stay back."

"Ma'am?"

His scent flickers.

"Yes, petty chief?"

"One of my techs might not make it. She was in someone's way. They shot her in the neck. She's the best I've got, ma'am."

Haley feels a snarl coming on and _fuck it,_ she throws her head back and lets it out.

"Master at arms? Put every fucking tech, fuck, put the _cleaning detail_ for the armory in the brig."

"Seaman, I need a direct line to the Pentagon _fucking yesterday_."

"SKIPPER!" one of the weapons officers hollers.

"WHAT?"

"We just got telemetry. From four cruise missiles. They are in flight and locked on to GPS coordinates outside Los Angeles"

"Hotel-Three."

"Probably, ma'am, yes. Tomahawks."

She looks back down at the dossier. The Navy has basically fuck-all on this Supergirl character except for some public-domain photos of her draped over Wonder Woman like an unusually handsy stripper.

The only supernatural with UN and US diplomatic protection and Henshaw not only threw enough heat at a roadside motel to vaporize half of Los Angeles, he _shot at Wonder Woman's girlfriend_ and if what happened to the 9th, 10th and 11th Panzerkorps in World War II is any indication, pissing her off is a fantastically stupid thing to do.

Throw a lightning bolt _just_ right and you can burn through a tank's engine. Throw a thousand of them at once, and you can kill a division of Nazis faster than they can blink.

A vicious thunderclap rattles the windows. Hovering off starboard aft is a small, brilliant _dot_. She snaps her fingers and someone hands her their binocs.

It's a woman. A woman in red-and-blue armor with sword, shield and burning lasso. She's got lightning pouring into her hands from a thunderstorm that wasn't there five minutes ago and she's rolling it into a ball like it's silly putty.

She flicks the intercom.

"This is the captain. All hands, abandon ship!"

A bolt of lighting longer than the ship and the width of a freight train lances into the flight deck. The lights blow out with a series of pops and the ship tilts rapidly to the aft.

The woman's palms are empty. She flips the bird, turns, and flies off with a teeth-shaking series of sonic booms.

* * *

**Stay-N-Sleep**

Fallbrook, California

The room stinks of musk—not Lena's—and there's blood _everywhere._ Daggers of what looks like human bone are sticking out of corpses piled in the doorway. Crows are busy taking eyeballs and tongues and in one nasty case, pecking the dick of one of the bodies off.

"Alpha?" she whimpers. "Lena?"

Supergirl really _shouldn't whimper_ but she feels like shit, her heat hasn't broken at all and Lena is not here. If whimpering gets her snuggles, whimper she shall.

Then she smells it. Starlight. Sizzling and tasty and _so close._ But how did a _star_ get that close to her? It's not like giant balls of fusing helium just _fly towards her_ in the Earth's atmosph-

"FUCK!"

She blasts out the door as fast as she can.

**Author's Note:**

> ##  [Want to see the posh stuff? Want to see future chapters early?](https://rb.gy/b1fjhr)
> 
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